


Sugar Kisses

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Europe, First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-06-24 09:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: Phichit has a job for an expert sugar sculptor, and the best he knows has just moved to St. Petersburg.Good thing the second best in the world is right across town.





	Sugar Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurone/gifts).



The best sugar sculptor in Barcelona was Christophe Giacometti, who also had the benefit of being blue-eyed, tall, and handsome. He was also an impossible, unstoppable flirt who'd slept with half the men in their business. Phichit could never decide if he was pleased to not be among their number or disappointed Chris had never tried his luck.

Still, his best friend Yuuri, the best sugar sculptor in the world as far as Phichit was concerned, was all the way in St. Petersburg these days, and as tempted as Phichit was to order something from him anyway and have it shipped, that was far too risky in the timeframe he had. It was going to have to be Chris.

Normally he'd just send in a work order like a sensible person, but this was going to require a delicate touch. So he packed up his portfolio and headed for Le Chat Doux.

Barceloneta was buzzing with tourists, and Phichit stopped to help a Thai couple negotiate with one of the street artists; they'd settled on a price quickly enough, but their language skills pretty much ran out after that. The logistics of getting a rather large painting on a rather small motorbike had been beyond them, and they were staying with family friends, rather than at a hotel, so there was no one to leave a package with. Phichit helped them ballpark the cost of shipping it straight home through Correos, and the artist pointed them to the nearest post office. 

That good deed done, his mood was light when he walked through the glass-fronted door of Le Chat Doux. "Bonjour!" Josef said. "I haven't seen you in a while, Phichit. How's business?"

"Busy," Phichit said. Barcelona was a big enough market, and Josef a generous enough man, that they'd never really thought of their businesses as rivals. Phichit was better with buttercream, Chris was a genius with sugar, and once in a while they'd call on each other if the need arose. "I've got a special order, and I think Chris is the only person in the city who can pull it off." 

"I can do a lot of things, darling," Chris murmured. Shit, Phichit hadn't even seen him behind the counter. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"I've got a last-minute wedding order," he said, pulling his portfolio and tablet out and putting it down on one of the cafe tables. It was pretty quiet at this hour, as he’d figured, so he wasn’t wasting anyone’s time or tables. "Do you have time to look it over now?"

Chris nodded, taking off his apron. "How last-minute? I've got an engagement party tonight I still need to finish."

"Saturday," Phichit said. "But it's elaborate. I told her I couldn't promise that she'd get exactly what she wanted, but I'd get the best person in the city."

"I'm lucky Yuuri's in St. Petersburg." Chris winked at him, broadly.

Phichit just pulled up the photos. "She wants a floral arch for the top tier of the cake, and then sugar flowers for a dozen cupcakes, all of them 'slightly unique.'"

"Well, that's easier than trying to make them all the same, at least."

Phichit grinned. "Yeah, I didn't tell her that."

"Is the cake going to be like this?"

The concept image was of a pristine white cake with a white lattice. "No, here--" He pointed to the sketch in his portfolio. "Lavender with gold. So we'll need to coordinate that."

"When will you put it together, Friday night?"

Phichit nodded. 

"I can do that, unless something else comes in. If it does, I can fit it in Saturday morning. But I think it'll be easier to work together, if you don't mind bringing the cake here and Celestino can spare you."

With the amount of money this woman was paying, Ciao Ciao could spare him, all right. "If you guys don't mind, sure."

"It'll be our name on it too," Josef said. "I don't mind doing what it takes to make it perfect. Go ahead and pull together a quote, Christophe."

"Okay," Chris said. They talked through the work for a little while longer, dimensions, the humidity at the venue, how the sculpture would be supported; the usual, but easier than sending a dozen questions back and forth through email. Chris flirted a little, but he always took his work seriously, too.

"Don't forget to give me a scan of your sketches, too." 

"Of course," Phichit said. "And I'll email you the rest of the details."

"Thanks for coming in with this," Chris said, and his thigh pressed briefly to Phichit's as he got up, just enough that it might have been accidental but Phichit couldn't be sure. 

"I thought it made more sense to have you look at it in person."

"Yeah, I'd say you were right. I'll get you the quote by tomorrow morning, sooner than that if we stay slow. You or Celestino?" His hand landed on Phichit's shoulder, and okay, Phichit normally didn't take flirting very seriously, but it did feel good.

"Doesn't matter," Phichit said. "We'll figure it out." He bought two slices of nusstorte to go--he was man enough to admit when another baker did things better--and headed back to the shop. Celestino had the quote by the time he got there. 

"He thinks it'll be easier if we work together at Le Chat Doux," Phichit explained. "He's probably right. The less we move the sugar work around, the better."

"Sounds good," Celestino said. "Price is reasonable and it plays to Chris's strengths, we know he'll do a good job. You can drive the cake out on Friday night. You two figure out when you want to get it done, I'll make sure you're covered here." This was a big job and a lot of money. No need to take any chances.

"I'll work with him, then," he said.

"Did you bring me back nusstorte?" 

Phichit drove the wedding cake out on Friday night, crumb coated and mostly assembled. "What flavor is it?" Chris asked, as he helped carry it in. "I forgot to ask."

"Vanilla with apricot filling," Phichit said. The King and the Baker prided itself on beautiful cakes people could actually _eat._ Phichit didn't as much as use fondant if he could help it.

"Oh, damn, that sounds amazing."

"It looks good when you cut it open, too," Phichit said, "but you'll have to take my word on that one."

"How much money do these people have?"

"The term is 'fuck you' money." Phichit had recognized it in the way they'd dressed and talked. "Their credit's good and they paid their deposit, so--" He shrugged.

"I can't wait to see what this will look like when we're done," Chris said. "Shall we?"

"Guess so," Phichit said, and they both got to work.

Chris had already started some of the sugar work, and it was already looking beautiful, flowers that looked like they were growing from the air. Phichit always appreciated how careful his hand was--Yuuri sometimes let his nerves get the better of him, but Chris was incredibly consistent. "You like?"

"Yeah, I like," Phichit said. "They're going to be blown away."

"I know I can't measure up to Yuuri in your eyes, but I think it's pretty good work."

"It's some of your best," Phichit said. "And you can't blame me for being loyal to my best friend."

"I guess not," Chris said, bumping Phichit with his hip. "But I'll make you glad you picked me."

Phichit bumped him back. "Don't worry, I already am."

Chris's arm went around his waist, almost automatically. "Well. I'll make you not want to pick anyone else."

"Okay," Phichit said. While it felt nice to have Chris's arm around him, it was something he didn't need to think about now, when they both had a job to do. "But don't forget, I'm pretty good at what I do, too."

"Oh, I know," Chris said, and his voice was warm enough that Phichit felt it in the back of his spine. "I'm counting on it."

Chris put on some Scandinavian pop, and they hummed along while they worked. It was comfortable and pleasant, and he and Chris flirted a little, low-key and easy. They'd never worked together before, but it took little time to fall in step with each other, and the kitchen was spotless and laid out well. If the job itself hadn't been so complicated it would've been one of the easiest evenings he'd ever had.

When they were finished, the work looked beautiful even unfinished; the rest of the assembly would have to come in the morning, just before they packed it in the car and drove it to the wedding. "You've outdone yourself," Chris said. "Don't forget to take pictures."

Like Phichit hadn't done that every step of the way. "Chris," he said, feigning shock. "I'm insulted."

"I know how reluctant you are to share what you're working on," Chris said, mock-seriously, "and I just want--"

Neither of them could keep it up; they both started laughing, almost at the same time. 

"If you take some for me, I'll start on the dishes," Chris said.

"Absolutely."

Sugar was harder to photograph than buttercream--more like working with glass than food--but Phichit had gotten good at it from his years with Yuuri, and by the end he had a set that Chris could score at least a dozen jobs from. 

"You want these on a memory stick, or should I--"

"There's one on the hook over by the aprons," Chris called back. "Just start a new folder, thanks."

"Glad to," Phichit said. "This was fun."

"I don't live that far from here," Chris said, drying his hands. "I've got a nice little walkup, if you'd like to grab something to eat."

"That'd be nice," Phichit said. "Honestly, I didn't think you were interested."

Chris paused with the towel halfway to the rack. "Well," he said. "There's the guys you want to have a good time with, and the guys you think you might want something more than a good time with. I guess you're in that second category."

"Oh." That hadn't really been the answer he was expecting. "I'm flattered."

"I figured you weren't short of offers, anyway," Chris said. 

"I thought I wasn't your type."

"If you just want to hang out, we can do that too," Chris said, and Phichit caught the non-answer. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea--"

"Let's just see where it goes," Phichit said. "If that's okay?"

"I like that," Chris said. "Yeah."

Phichit would swear later that he'd meant it when he'd said 'see where it goes,' but he was the one who was watching, thinking, as Chris cooked, his shirtsleeves pushed up on his broad arms. "I had more clams than I was going to eat anyway," he said. "You're not allergic?"

"I love clams," Phichit said. "Can I help?"

"You can chop me some parsley," he said. "This is pretty simple. Light. It's pretty early yet." His knife skills weren't as solid as his sugar skills, but they were definitely better than Phichit's own. "Knife block's over there."

"Got it," Phichit said, and worked on the parsley. He was slow enough, and the clams cooked quickly enough, that Chris was almost ready for it when he brought it over. 

"Thanks," he said, tossing the parsley in. "This was nice. Working with you."

"Yeah," Phichit said. "Thanks for cooking."

Chris put his hand on Phichit's back again as he walked the pan over to the serving dishes he'd gotten ready. Phichit liked the casual intimacy of it. "I know this place is pretty small, but I can't beat the location, and it's really nice on the balcony this time of year." He led Phichit out there, to the small table and pair of chairs, and they ate looking out at the neighborhood, not talking much, just enjoying the slowly setting sun and each other's company.

"This is a really nice place," Phichit said. "You want to stay here?"

"I don't know," Chris said. "But I love it here--working with Josef, this apartment. That's...that's one of the reasons, actually. Why I never...offered. I always figured you'd go back home sooner or later."

"Oh." Well. Shit. That meant Chris had actually _thought_ about this. "I might," he said. "You're right. But I haven't decided anything yet. I'm not ready to."

"How old are you, now?"

"Twenty-one," he said.

"Yeah. I'm five years older. Which isn't that much older but--"

"No, I get it. At some point, you'll want to settle down, probably. A lot of choices I'm not thinking about yet."

Chris looked at him over the plates. "Yeah," he said. "But...I'm not there yet, either, honestly."

Phichit hoisted his glass. There was still a little wine left. "Well," he said. "Let's toast to the future, whatever it is."

"I'd like that," Chris said. 

Phichit leaned over the table and kissed him, and he felt Chris responding to him, felt Chris's hands on him now in a way they hadn't been before, hungrier, more possessive. 

"We can clean the table off later," Chris said, and Phichit just nodded, because he didn't care about the table at all. If it hadn't been so bright outside, he might've asked Chris to fuck him right there _on_ the table.

Chris swept the door open and then swept Phichit into his arms, and it felt romantic and silly and wonderful. Chris's bed was carefully made, but Phichit didn't register much more than that before Chris started kissing him again. He pulled Chris's sweater over his head, and, good, there was a chair there he could put it on, and Chris looked really good with his shirt off. Phichit yanked his own t-shirt off as Chris pulled the duvet and sheets down. 

Chris's gaze traveled up and down. "Fuck, you're beautiful."

"You're not so bad yourself, you know." But he made a show of pulling the rest of his clothes off, of watching Chris watch him, hot and hungry. He slid onto the mattress, spread his legs so Chris would get a good look. He put his hand on his cock and stroked, slow and showy.

"I should've asked you to do this a long time ago," Chris said, and stepped out of his trousers. "What do you want to do?" 

"Just come here," Phichit said. "I want to touch you."

Chris slid into bed with him, putting a hand behind his head to kiss him, hooking a leg over Phichit's to pull them closer together. "I can do that," Chris said, reaching down to Phichit's cock and stroking Phichit's foreskin with his fingertips. "Good?"

"Good," Phichit said. "Fuck, yeah, that's good."

Chris took him in hand, stroking him slow and easy, and kissed him again. 

"I'll walk you back to the shop, if you want," Chris offered later, his fingers still warm on Phichit's hip. "But I wouldn't complain if you stayed. We could go out, get something more to eat...the beach is nice, this time of year."

"The beach is always nice," Phichit said. "We have to drive, in Bangkok. But they're so beautiful."

"You making me an offer, Chulanont?" His thumb stroked Phichit's skin.

"Not yet," Phichit said. "But we can see where it goes."

**Author's Note:**

> I did a lot of handwaving about [sugar sculptures](https://www.cordonbleu.edu/news/art-of-sugar-sculptures-explained-new-zealand/en) but the real thing is very cool.


End file.
